


it came from the sea

by Anonymous



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (Implied)Mindbreak, (Implied)Watersports, Alien Biology, Anal Plug, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Canon-Typical Violence, Come Inflation, Dubious Consent, Enemas, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Oviposition, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sea Monsters, Tentacles, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:13:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The sea is fraught with danger.Luckily, Hannibal is one resilient man.
Relationships: Monster/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72
Collections: Anonymous





	it came from the sea

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Mermay :)

The sting is unexpected in what has always been the safe, danger-free waters of Hannibal's beachside abode.

He had been relaxing by a cluster of rocks not too far from the shallows after a few laps in deeper waters, but the pain at his hip jolts him awake.

Hannibal kicks out at the vague direction of the offender, legs using the rocks beneath as a springboard, propelling him forward to inland safety. However, he only manages a pathetic flailing of his limbs as he falls face-first into the ocean.

It's a graceless thing and thankfully there were no living beings other than the thing that bit him.

Coughing and choking on salty brine, Hannibal wipes the wetness from his face, pushing his damp hair away from his eyes.

Bracing himself against the nearest rock, inhaling deep to calm himself - Hannibal can't help but squirm when he felt the disturbing sensation of something _moving_ under his foot.

He jerks away - or tries to at least.

His legs have lost much strength in those mere moments, the poison injected in numbing them out of his control while still letting him retain full sensation of his lower half.

Still, Hannibal could support his weight with the water keeping him afloat, so he wasn't in danger of drowning.

The murky waters were quite clear at this time of the year, allowing Hannibal to see what exactly had chanced upon him. 

A pair of feelers sprouting out from a bed of pale, gelatinous flesh wave at him in greeting.

The tendrils were connected to a hard, glossy shell - a snail, not a slug as he had thought.

It is unnaturally large for a gastropod, its pearly white shell half the size of the rock he was clinging to while its body was like a massive blanket, dotted with specks of gold. 

Its eyes were like two miniature black holes, unblinking and staring at him, like it wished to crawl up and take shelter within the doctor.

_You never know what's hiding in the deep_ , he recalls a marine biologist lecturing, waxing on the perils of the ocean, insistent and disregarding of Hannibal's polite rejection.

( _The oyster blades carved from that well-tanned flesh paired execellently with the sauces he was testing out that week._ )

It would have been an awe-inspiring sight if Hannibal had been sightseeing the sealife and not being eaten alive at the moment.

The massive snail began its trek up his near-naked body(- _only covered by his swim shorts_ ) rather quickly for its great size, the cool, soft flesh of its body enveloping his legs at it felt him up - _testing the meat._

The idea of becoming prey to one of his favourite dishes makes Hannibal crack a grim smile, though he doesn't falter in trying to shrug the creature off.

Of course, the snail does not budge an inch, his blows glancing off the gastropod's rubbery skin; slime and mucus making his hands slip off it more than anything.

Then, to his horror, he feels the snail slip under his skintight swimwear with thin tendrils, began prodding between his cheeks, cool flesh forcing his legs to part as it mounted him. Pushing him to lean against the rock unless he wanted a layer of skin scraped off his face.

An ungainly noise left his mouth as the snail cocooned itself around his useless legs, nuzzling at his clenched hole through the cloth.

He feels the only article of clothing he has being peeled down his thighs; _ripped_ off in one swift movement when the creature realised _that_ was a swifter course of action than trying to inch it down his legs.

Hannibal barely has a second to mourn as the only thing keeping his last shred of dignity safe floats away. A slip of flesh prodding at his hole, courting and _distracting_. 

Thankfully, it left his limp genitals be, simply grazing by them dully.

Hannibal tensed instinctively, but the slick, slender tendril simply _slid_ into his tight ring of muscle no matter how hard he clenched.

Hissing lowly at the invasion, Hannibal reached out, hands grasping to tear at whatever he could reach - managing to claw at a sensitive feeler.

He was promptly rewarded with a harsh jab right _in_ his tender anus from the apparent stinger that had entered him.

Hannibal _keened_ at the shock, back arching, bowing to the point an observer would have feared he'd _break_ \- 

Unconciously, soft whimpers left the dazed man as the initial sting faded into numbness, anal muscles relaxing further against his will, followed by the snail's feelers slipping down his crack, snug against his hole.

Testing the give of Hannibal's rim before entering. 

His mind conjures up horrific scenarios of the snail choosing to devour him from inside out - its radulas _scraping_ at his tender insides, boring holes in him till he fainted from the horrid agony - the monster then dragging his body down to the ocean depths to consume at its leisure, his corpse forevermore lost to the sea.

Then, the snail retreats, leaving an uncomfortably slick sensation in him.

He doesn't get a chance to breathe before a thicker tendril breaches his hole, the silken flesh around his hips tightening and dragging him downwards when he kept trying to jerk away with groggy urgency.

The flared tip of the strange phallus encountered little resistance at all, forcing its way inside him, slick and smooth, coaxing Hannibal's muscles to open for itself.

Feeding more of its bulk into him heedless of how he whined and protested.

Hannibal could only twitch weakly, a high, constant ache radiating up his spine.

_It was impossible_ , his mind roared - _he would be torn apart by the size no matter how relaxed or wet he was -_

To Hannibal's mortification, he felt the beginnings of an arousal. His cheekbones flushes a delightful shade of red like his ruddy cock.

A warm, tingly liquid was pumped into his guts, filling him up till he cramped - and then the snail pulled out its cock, the pressure forcing the fluids in his ass right out.

What couldn't be expelled was helped by the gastropod undulating its flesh against his belly, helping Hannibal relieve himself.

The process was repeated multiple times till the creature deemed him clean enough - then, the phallus re-entered.

It went in smoothly, nudging and pushing against his internal organs as it moves inward - the sensations alien; bloating. 

_Making more room in_ him, as it fed him more of its girth. It... wasn’t outright painful, but deeply unsettling.

It's then with dreadful certainty that Hannibal realises that he was found _suitable_ to be its mate.

Before he could cast aside his dignity and cry out for help, the monster rammed its cock into him, robbing his breath away with a cruel twist.

Its lengthy phallus fills him impossibly, more imposing than the fluids pumped into him earlier. The unnatural mass feels like it's occupying every inch of his insides; hollowing him out.

_Finally_ , it came to a stop and Hannibal groaned, feeling every bit impaled as if the tip of its limb was worming into his small intestine and past it into his stomach - _despite how illogical_ \- rearranging his insides to its needs.

Suddenly, the tendril in him pulled back so quickly he felt his insides clench around nothing in its wake.

Then it drove _back_ inside him and began a ruthless pace, fucking him wide open, his body held against the solid rock as the tentacle rammed his insides, forcing him to meet its every thrust.

As it kept working more and _more_ of itself into Hannibal with every thrust, brushing his prostate with each inch moving into him, a slight nervousness of his insides imploding - tearing apart at the seams with the amount forced into him yet -

He could feel heat coiling low in him the longer the tentacle violated him. The horror mingling with arousal only served to make him harder - _and wasn't that a nice time to begin discovering new kinks?_

However, there was just that lack of proper friction to bring him over the edge, leaving him unsatisfied.

It continued for a while, until Hannibal finally gave up struggling.

His body was drained, pleasure from how the creature was fucking him open, keeping him just on _that precipice_ long enough to where he would be willing to do anything to cum, if the monster had demanded it of him at that moment.

The tentacle in his guts had stopped again - and this time Hannibal managed to angle himself enough to see that there was a slight distortion in his stomach from its length. 

Breathless, Hannibal _observes_ as unatural ripples of it moved under his flesh while he breathed.

_Parasitic._

It didn’t prompt nearly the amount of terror it should, the emotions cooling like soaked embers - and a part of Hannibal notes that the snail might just have some potent aphrodisiac qualities in its slick alongside its cocktail of side effects when a growing part of him murmurs how _wonderful_ it began to feel.

His cock is twitching needily, uncaring of the colder waters nipping at him, uncaring of his reasonings, needy for that final bit of friction that Hannibal would never voice aloud.

The beast seems to read his mind, spreading out its mass impossibly wider, engulfing his entire body neck down in its slime-coated flesh as he moaned, gripping him tight within its grasp all at once.

_Inspecting_ every inch of him - preventing him from escaping or even harming himself as it seemingly gushed through gaps in the rocks, wrapping around him like a safety blanket.

It felt him up absently as it did so, feelers roaming the curve of his neck, down his chest and belly to coil around his turgid cock, curious. 

The slim tendril jerked him off delicately, prodding at his slit with its tip, dipping in to rub his urethra from with.

His orgasm had been building gradually, _denied_ every time until it hit him like a sucker punch until that moment, the soft pressure like a fleshlight. His body seized up and he froze, breath stuck in his lungs when he came, cum splattering onto rock and the monster twining around him.

Hannibal collapsed back down, full weight sinking onto the intrusion, utterly drained. Uncaring of how open he felt at that moment.

The tendril in his ass had stopped moving, still pressed snugly in him, the flesh encapsulating him growing heated to match his temperature. The ones coiling around his genitals seemed content to wrap around him like a soft cover, motionless.

_No threat of getting hypothermia then,_ Hannibal thinks wryly.

Then he felt _it._

Something firm and _round_ pressing at his entrance.

Sweat slicked his skin as he tenses, nervous at the thought of a new potentially _larger_ intrusion threatening to split him anew.

It came to Hannibal that this thing was trying to lay its eggs _in_ him rather than simply sate its lust in him, but he was too exhausted, too _lost_ in the agonising pleasure of being so well-fucked and bred to even attempt a struggle, futile as it may be.

His eyes rolled back into his head as the first egg ruthlessly stretched his hole _wide_ ; the thing had to at least be the size of a baseball - _and this was far from the last._

Even with the slick lube from the gastropod, Hannibal struggles to take it inside of himself, the widest bit of the egg catching on his rim before entry. The spherical bulge popped into him lewdly, rippling within what undoubtedly functioned as an ovipositor too - _not just a prehensile dick_ \- as it was guided in. 

It passed through him treacherously slow, forcing him to feel it in great detail as it rubbed up against his prostate before continuing its journey inward.

He could only sob as another sphere soon nudged at his cheeks, felt it enter his loosened asshole, followed by another; each more easily than the last.

Felt the flare of the phallus, the egg _leaving_ it to settle, deep in his guts.

They seem endless.

Yielding, spherical things( - _much like a particularly tough ball of gel_ ) inhabiting the curves of Hannibal's insides effortlessly. Somehow, he manages to take them _all_ , his body having adapted unnaturally well to becoming a carrier for the snail's offspring in a short span of time.

Logic could not be applied to it; to any of _this_ happening to him, really.

To his nausea, the many eggs taking up so much room along with the constant push and shove against his inner walls soon highlights a problem - _the growing weight pressing on his bladder._

Hannibal's swelling belly illustrates the problem well, pushing out into a cute little bump with the clutch of eggs inside of him jostling his organs. 

The desperation must have aroused some depraved part of him. Combined with the full, well-bred ache and violation, it brings Hannibal over the edge with frightening ease.

_It's wrong. ~~It's all so wrong.~~ _

His cock throbbed painfully, the multiple orgasms within a short span of time combined with his age not helping him any. 

Whimpering, he could only sob as added pressure makes him loose the fraying threads of control over his body. Hannibal empties himself into the ocean shamefully, helpfully giving more room for the eggs to better occupy him.

Soft rumbles send tremors through his body.

The snail is _purring_.

* * *

His cries and gasps were easily masked by the lapping ocean waves, the call of the gulls returning to roost loud as the sun began to set.

He feels like he has been there for ages, having lost track after the fifth egg - when the snail finally, _mercifully_ stopped, but it was too late for him to escape, bloated as he was.

The constant battering of his prostate had forced him to cum to the point where his poor, oversensitive cock was surely empty by now. 

His slack hole barely twitched as the ovipositor finally began leaving him, relieving him somewhat of that overstuffed feeling. The creature's fleshy body began unwinding itself from him, the cool waters and salty breeze barely rousing him from his daze.

Though the snail had already let down its guard - plus the paralytic injected into him had already worn off, Hannibal was too weary to attempt anything, his mind a mess.

Hannibal groaned, throat hoarse as he felt the creature pause, secreting a cooler, thicker substance into his ass.

_A mating plug._

It left as quick as it came, leaving him sore and gaping - _exposed to the elements_ \- after feeling him up, feelers roving the slight swell of his belly and ensuring that the plug set properly to seal up his otherwise open hole. 

Belly sloshing with cum and eggs, Hannibal could only firm up his tattered composure.

Eventually, he did leave, though there was a bit of a limp in his step. Hannibal didn’t mind the burden. ~~In fact, he reveled in it.~~

It would be gone soon.

Perhaps another property would have better prospects. One high up on a cliff - _away from the beach_ \- but overlooking the ocean all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> **Q & A**
> 
> **Q:** what kind of snail is your creature based after? 
> 
> **A:** moon snails. They're edible & come in a [gorgeous](https://66.media.tumblr.com/8828aab49c1b96c62a7955df19beca7e/tumblr_plwhzq31HT1viahpjo1_500.gifv) assortment of colours and have _very_ interesting egg sacs. Their [structure](https://merriam-webster.com/assets/mw/static/art/dict/moonshel.gif) is very interesting too, so I added some paralytic stingers and capability for the female to hold sperm from the male before depositing both eggs and sperm to fertilise in a suitable host.
> 
> *Moon snails in real life are smaller and prey on mollusks. They also produce egg sacs known as 'sand collars' and are not parasitic. 
> 
> * Snail-chan is one of the few left of her kind since finding an appropriate host is quite difficult, and most creatures aren't as resilient as humans. Luckily, Hannibal is a man that can endure many things
> 
> **Q:** How many eggs can be stored in (1)booty?
> 
>  **A:** According to research, 21. Hannibal had around half of that the first time as the snail did not want to risk its entire clutch in a new mate. Subsequent breedings can bring the count up[- and possibly beyond 21 considering the snail's capability to modify its brood's host to better suit its new purpose. :) ]
> 
> **Q:** How to eat aquatic snails?
> 
>  **A:** Much like land snails; after removing the unwanted bits, you can have them in shell or without. I prefer them in to let them soak in the flavour. Fresh water snails can be blanched lightly with some ginger & chilli paste on the side to remove any fishiness. [Here](https://www.thespruceeats.com/thmb/_xsHmeRjJxX7BHXcOq3zrY-Novo=/600x0/filters:no_upscale\(\):max_bytes\(150000\):strip_icc\(\):format\(webp\)/How-to-clean-snails-for-cooking-1705681_Final-2365826fbce14300b3711011d710a78e.png) is an easy guide on how to prepare them. Note that overconsumption of aquatic snails can lead to shellfish poisoning due to their diet. 
> 
> **Q:** Will [insert fic] be updated?
> 
>  **A:** heh heh


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